Dearest heart: a holiday fic
by NivalVixen2
Summary: COMPLETE! Magic in the evening to knock some sense into Elizabeth Bennett - her not so prejudiced, and Darcy not an idiot with the emotional range of a teaspoon.


For Litsa

Prompt: Lizzie/Darcy - Magic in the evening to knock some sense into Elizabeth Bennett - her not so prejudiced, and Darcy not an idiot with the emotional range of a teaspoon

...

Elizabeth had spent most of the day fending off Mr. Collins' remarks about her suitor, the wonderful, fantastic, and great Lady Catherine (she wondered if gifting him a thesaurus was worth the amusement), and had finally taken leave of the Collins' to return to Pemberley. Darcy would usually accompany her, but had already arranged to a hunting day with Bingley, and so instead, Jane had accompanied her to the Collins' home. Charlotte had done her best, taking them to her own sitting room soon after they arrived, but there was still lunch, dinner, and this morning's breakfast with Mr. Collins in attendance. Even Jane looked weary of their stay, and Lizzie could not stand to see her dearest sister looking so downtrodden.

"You will soon be home and with your Mr. Bingley again. I am certain he has been missing you just as you have missed him," Lizzie said, smiling.

At the mention of her husband, Jane smiled brightly and no longer looked as weary. "Perhaps he has not missed me at all; the thrill of the hunt is sure to occupy his thoughts."

"Jane, if dear Mr. Bingley thought of the hunt half as much as he did of you, then we would probably have enough pheasant to last the year."

Jane laughed and Lizzie grinned, feeling the day slipping away and her mood improving.

"Well, no sooner than I will be with Charles, you shall be with your Mr. Darcy," Jane said. "Do you think his thoughts will be occupied with the hunt, or shall he think of pleasanter things as well?"

Lizzie felt a blush on her cheeks. She had no doubt that her husband would think of her, as her own mind had slipped to him during the day, even while laughing and talking with Charlotte and Jane, or suffering through another of Mr. Collins' dreary monologues. However, Lizzie had no idea if Darcy would think of her as she had of him, remembering him just two mornings ago with his hair out of sorts, his body bare of clothes, and looking far too pleased with his state of undress.

"And how many times did your thoughts turn to pleasanter things?" Jane teased, seeing her sister's blush.

"Far more often when Mr. Collins was droning on," Lizzie admitted, Jane laughing again.

They fell to silence as the carriage continued on, but unlike the past day and a half where Mr. Collins insisted on filling the silence and making it uncomfortable or far too boring when in his presence, this was a comfortable and companionable silence. Lizzie felt herself dozing as the scenery passed by her window, a multitude of greens and browns and the occasional burst of colour as they passed by the villagers' gardens in Bromley.

Jane and Lizzie were both eager to return to their husbands, and only stopped in London for the horses and a small lunch that Charlotte had packed for them. (The kitchen was another sanctuary of hers, as their cook had shooed Mr. Collins out anytime he was nearby.) Jane even refused to stop to look for ribbons, Lizzie laughing at the very idea of how scandalised their sisters would be when they heard. She said as much and Jane pursed her lips, looking down at their lunch.

"You are mean to tease me when I know you are just as anxious to be with your Mr. Darcy as I am with Charles."

"I do not think anxious is the right word, dearest sister, and I am only teasing. Come now, I won't tell if you don't," Lizzie said, grinning.

Jane smiled again, seeming appeased, and by the time they finished their lunch, the coachman announced that the horses were ready to continue on their journey.

They reached Netherfield just as the sun was setting. Jane worried that their parents would be upset that they had passed Meryton without seeing them, but Lizzie assured her that they would be fine, as Lydia and Wickham were already visiting their parents that week.

"If our husbands had a successful hunt, we could take them some pheasant once Lydia and Wickham have left," Lizzie suggested.

Jane paused for a moment, looking as if to say something, then changing her mind, only to repeat the motion a moment later. Eventually, she decided to ask her question after all. "You can not bring yourself to like him, can you?"

"Wickham?" Lizzie queried; though she knew exactly what her sister meant, she needed a moment to compose both herself and her reply.

Jane nodded. "Is it because of the way he and Lydia were eloped? Or was it his slight towards you? Mother had hoped he would ask you, you know." Though Jane knew of Wickham's imprudent and extravagant ways, she still had tried to forgive him and show him kindness, just as she had Caroline Bingley.

Lizzie couldn't help but think that both Jane and her father preferred Wickham more when he was as far away as possible.

"I was not slighted by him, Jane. There were no promises made between us, and I am glad he did not ask me," Lizzie replied, as firmly as she possibly could.

The carriage stopped at that moment, and Lizzie barely waited for the coachman to open the carriage door. She would very soon be reunited with her husband, and she had no desire to dwell on _Wickham_ of all people.

"Good evening, Mrs. Bingley, Mrs. Darcy. You're back earlier than expected; how was your visit to Rosings Park?" Mrs. Fairley, the housekeeper for Netherfield, asked as they arrived.

"It was quite lovely, Mrs. Fairley. Charlotte was pleasant company, and Mr. Collins was his usual self," Jane replied, trying to find a polite term for the Mr. Collins in general.

Mrs. Fairley had seen Mr. Collins at both the Bingley and Darcy weddings, and simply nodded in return. "Your husbands have just sat down for supper, if you would like to join them?"

"Thank you, Mrs. Fairley," Lizzie said, practically over her shoulder as she left the foyer for the sitting room she knew they used for supper.

Jane smiled at Mrs. Fairley and excused them both, walking after Lizzie before she lost her sister entirely.

Though not vain by current standards, Lizzie could not help but stop in front of the hallway mirror to run a hand over the creases in her dress and attempt to fix her hair in some semblance of normalcy. Braiding it over her shoulder, Lizzie felt marginally better, and she waited as Jane fixed her appearance beside her as well.

Opening the door without bothering to knock, Lizzie stopped short in the doorway when she saw the two men sitting at supper. Darcy and Bingley were both in a state of undress, having not expected company, and while Bingley was the more modest with his coat on the back of his chair, Darcy had his coat off and his shirt unfastened.

"Oh my. Sorry! We should have knocked," Jane said, blush high on her cheeks as she stared at her husband.

Mr. Darcy stood and turned, obviously giving himself some privacy to refasten his shirt properly.

Elizabeth found herself speechless and could not bring herself to look away from her husband, even though his back was turned to her. Though, she could not help but admire that view as well. She vaguely heard Bingley making apologies and probably blushing as red as her sister, but she could not give him her attention. She coughed as she finally returned to her own mind, the noise masking something else, whether humour or desire, not even Lizzie knew. The sound had Mr. Darcy turning to her abruptly.

"Are you unwell, my dear?"

"I..." she trailed off for a moment. "I think I should go to bed. It has been a long day," Lizzie said, speaking truthfully for the most part.

Mr. Darcy immediately offered to attend to her, which Lizzie graciously accepted. She farewelled her sister and brother-in-law, amused to note they were still blushing so wildly, and let her husband lead her up to their guest bedroom. Lizzie took his hand in her own, stroking the back of his palm, and Mr. Darcy glanced down at her in amusement.

"I see that you are perfectly well, dearest heart. I take it that you do not intend to go to bed to sleep?" he asked, voice quiet in the empty hallways.

"No, I do not. I do not intend on letting you sleep either, my dear husband," she replied, almost daring him to disagree with her.

Mr. Darcy laughed, soft and sounding almost awed at her words. "I am glad to see you home sooner than expected, my dearest Mrs. Darcy," he admitted, daring to kiss her cheek, though they had yet to enter their room yet.

Lizzie checked to ensure the hallway was clear and then stood up on her toes to press a kiss to her husband's mouth. "I am glad for it too, dearest Mr. Darcy."

She pulled away from their chaste kiss to see her husband's eyes closed and smiled, taking his hand once more to lead him the final steps to their room.

...

The end.


End file.
